Chapter 3 (Hope)
“Darla!” I screamed, clinging onto my seat as she took a sharp turn, blowing the red light. A car honked angrily at her, having narrowly avoided colliding with her back bumper.
“What? There’s no sign saying I can’t turn on red.” She responded like she had done nothing wrong.
“Yes, there was. Even if there wasn’t, you’re supposed to look and see if cars are coming first.”
She scoffed. “What do you know? You don’t even have a license.”
“And whoever gave you yours was obviously insane.”
She rolled her eyes. “Keep insulting my driving and see if it won’t get you kicked out.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
I kept my mouth shut. I wouldn’t put anything past her, including leaving me on the side of the road when I desperately needed to get to work on time. I still couldn’t believe I had slept through my alarm. I guess I was so nervous about starting this new job that I hadn’t been able to fall asleep at first.
“Will music calm you down?”
“No!” I said quickly, but it was already too late.
The car filled with country music. Her small Honda shook as she nearly blew out her speakers.
“Seriously, Darla! Turn it off!” I tried to adjust the volume, but she slapped my hand away, singing along with the deep-toned musicians singing about their red pickup trucks. How could she stand to listen to this?
To my horror, she dropped me off at Periodic’s headquarters with the music still blasting. A few well-dressed individuals shot me pointed glares, making my cheeks burn.
“Bye honey! Have a wonderful day!” She screamed before finally driving away.
I wished I could have a moment to compose myself, but I really didn’t have any time to spare. Taking a deep breath, I held my head up high and walked through the reflective glass doors. Inside, I was met with nothing but luxury and wealth. Shiny, marble floors. Twenty-foot ceilings. Gold-plated elevator doors. And, for whatever reason, a full-fledged water fountain in the middle of the lobby. The owner of this company definitely had a lot of money to blow on his extravagant tastes. Speaking of which, whoever the owner was, he liked to keep his identity a secret. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t come up with anything concrete about the CEO. I sure hope I wasn’t stepping right into some sort of a scam.
“Hello! How may I help you?” A friendly receptionist beckoned me forward. It was only then that I realized I had been standing in the middle of the lobby, gawking like an idiot.
“Hello. Sorry. My name is Hope Griffith. I’m here to interview for the interpreter position.”
“Oh. Right. Right. Mr. Moore has been expecting you.”
The name made me reel back a bit. It was just a coincidence, right? There were plenty of people with the last name Moore.
“Is something wrong?”
“No. No.” I answered quickly. “Although, may I ask who might Mr…” I hesitated. “…Moore… be.” It felt strange to say the name aloud. At some point in my life, I fantasized about what it would feel like to be Hope Moore, but now, all that name did was bring back bad memories. Countless nights alone in my bed, staring at my phone, praying he would give me a call, just so I could hear his voice one more time. Or, trying to get over him, only to wake up in the middle of the night, covered in cold sweat, dreaming of all the terrible things that might have happened to him.
“He’s the CEO of the company. I was instructed to send you directly to his office.” She smiled. “You’ll want to take elevator A up to the 32nd floor. There, you’ll see Ms. Frank’s desk, his personal assistant. Be sure to check in with her first and then she’ll direct you to Mr. Moore’s office.”
I nodded, a sinking feeling quickly developing in my stomach. My mind recalled my night at the club where I had seen him. Or at least, I think I did. I was starting to doubt myself, even though I could distinctly remember those dark eyes locking with mine, even if only for a second.
As I waited for the elevator, I tried to clear my mind. The last thing I needed was to go through a job interview, thinking about an ex-boyfriend I may or may not have seen the other night.
I took a deep breath, finding my center. And people say yoga is useless…
The elevator dinged at its arrival and I stepped inside along with a few other people. Most of them were well dressed, surpassing my plain white blouse and black pencil skirt. Had I known the dress code was this fancy, I would have worn my pant suit. Feeling a little self-conscious, I stepped into the corner, trying to disappear.
I was starting to think that applying to this job wasn’t such a good idea.
On the way up, people got off at their respective floors until I was the only one left. It was a somewhat lonely experience, but luckily, I was almost there.
As I approached the 32nd floor, I adjusted my posture and ran a hand over my hair, just in case there were any strands with their own opinion. I rolled my shoulders, mentally telling myself to relax. It was just an interview. Everything would be fine.
The doors opened.
Immediately to the left was a large desk cluttered with various papers. The printer rumbled as it spewed out more and more documents. With each new page it printed, it shook the entire desk, making the snow globes that lined the top of it shake ever so slightly. The sparkly snow was constantly jostling back and forth.
I barely noticed the small woman hunched over the papers. Her beige-colored uniform practically made her blend in.
“Um, excuse me,” I said, hoping I wasn’t interrupting her from something.
At the sound of my voice, she jolted in her seat, a couple of sticky notes stuck to her cheek. “Oh my…” She patted the desk as if looking for something, her eyes growing wide. “They were right here…” She mumbled. “I just wrote it down… how could I misplace it already?”
“Um… ma’am.”
She looked up at me, her eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. She lifted her hand to scratch the side of her face. Doing so, she noticed the sticky notes and took them off, along with a bit of her foundation.
I kept my mouth shut.
She glanced at the colorful pieces of paper and then up at me before she finally clapped her hands together in understanding. “Oh! You must be Ms. Griffith! We’re excited to have you on board!”
“What? I thought this was an interview? I already have the job?”
The woman nibbled her lip. “Oh dear. Did I not make that clear during our conversation? I thought I explicitly pointed out that you’d be starting on Monday – today.”
“You did… I just thought there’d be an interview or something…” I knew I should have just kept quiet and accepted that I had already gotten the job, but something about this whole thing seemed rather suspicious.
“Oh… Well, in any case, Mr. Moore has been eager to finally meet you. Let me just check if he’s available and then you should be all set to go in and talk to him.” She emerged from behind her desk, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about Mr. Moore, he looks tougher than he actually is… that’s not to say he isn’t tough… he is… but you know, don’t fret about it… sorry, I’m rambling. You’ll do great!”
I was actually kind of glad when she disappeared behind a solid wood door. Curious, I stepped forward, my heart stopping when I noticed the gold lettering.
Andre Moore.
No. This couldn’t actually be him, could it?
I glanced at the elevator, planning my escape. I could probably slip in there before the assistant came back. It would be like I had never been here. I could pretend that I still lived in a world where Andre didn’t exist, instead of trying to face a world where he was back and didn’t acknowledge me.
It took a while for the assistant to return, so I sat down on a nearby couch, looking out the window. From this high up, all the people looked like tiny ants, trying to run back to their safe little hill. I watched them for a while before my mind brought me back to Andre.
What was I going to do if it really was him, waiting for me behind that door? Did I pretend that everything was okay so I could get the job I wanted or did I leave and ignore him the same way he ignored me?
Before I could decide, the woman came tumbling out of the office. Her cheeks were bright red and her glasses were on the very tip of her nose.
She blew a puff of air out of her mouth before she patted her arms against her side, marching toward me. “Mr. Moore will see you now.”
I lingered on the couch for a minute longer before I got up and headed for the door. Already, my palms were sweaty. My heart was beating faster than ever. I nearly stopped myself from turning the doorknob, but I was already here, I might as well go through with it. Who knows, maybe this was another Andre Moore.
The second I stepped over the threshold, it felt like I was walking into his dorm room all over again. Even though the smell of expensive cologne lingered in the air, under it all was a scent that was still very familiar to me. His scent. Subtle mint, mixed with a hint of sandalwood, and unadulterated masculinity. Even after all these years, I still recognized that intoxicating combination.
It caused me to stop, my hand still on the door, my eyes closed, reliving the few splendid moments whenever I woke up in his arms. I would nuzzle into his chest, feel his embrace tighten around me, keeping me safe. Those were the moments I cherished the most…
“Please. Come in and take a seat.” A deep voice broke me from my trance.
I looked up to find Andre staring at me with a fierce look in his eye. He had matured. Back then he was just a rowdy young adult – a boy, really – now, he was a man.
“Andre…” I couldn’t stop myself from saying his name aloud, feeling like I was caught in some kind of dream. What were the odds that I would apply for a position in his company and meet him like this?
“Ms. Griffith. It’s a pleasure.” He flashed me a professional smile that felt cold and distant. So, he was trying to pretend that nothing had ever happened between us.
Well, after ten years, I just couldn’t stand for that. I needed answers. Now.
“Look. There’s no need to pretend. I was never some dumb bimbo and you know that. You obviously hired me because you wanted to see me again.”
“You were simply the most qualified applicant. You can even ask my assistant.” He stated, his hands folded in front of him. Back then, Andre would have scoffed at the man he became. Would have said that business executives were too boring and stiff. Funny how things work out.
“So, you want to tell me that seeing me does nothing to you? That you don’t feel an ounce of remorse for what you did? For abandoning me?” I stepped closer to his desk, my fingers shaking by my side. “Do you know how hard your disappearance hit me? I nearly filed you as a missing person until your mother told me you had run away to the Navy. Why didn’t you say goodbye? Why didn’t you tell me?” My eyes started to water as all the emotions I had been trying to keep at bay all these years began to surface. Anger. Depression. Disappointment. Heartbreak.
He had to feel something, right?